Journals and essays from the life of a quintessential Englishman
1913-2006

Friday, March 23, 2007

Wednesday 18th April 1934

A grey rainy day. TocH. As usual. Prayers. “Lights”. Hypocrite!

How confidential one gets, speaking sleepily in bed, with the lights out! Clarke talking of his affairs with women. All these older men seem the same – dirty – in the eyes of youth. Fresh, chivalrous, idealistic innocence!

All wrong? Yet when I think of Peggy and I in the great dark country, hand in hand like children as we find our way – it does not seem wrong.